


Reverence

by buttpatrol



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Drabble, F/M, POV Second Person, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, born of a literal fever dream, sort of pre-shipping, these two kids have a lot to unpack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-09-23 06:01:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9643625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buttpatrol/pseuds/buttpatrol
Summary: There, in a burnt field, far from home, surrounded by dead metal and torn flesh, you are not sure what here is evil. What could possibly be evil?





	

**Author's Note:**

> These intense emotional conversations and tension about thier bonds and quest is killing me y'all

You lift your sword to swing again. This is hard. Metal, like stone, doesn’t give way easily as flesh and bone and you have been at this for hours. It’s dark, and the air is cold, and you are tired. Smoke rolls over the fields and burns at your eyes.

You can’t say that as an acolyte of Samothes you had ever imagined that following that path of your God meant hitting so many magical inanimate soldiers with swords. Then again, your town has been buried under a supernatural snow and the sun, which Samothes himself had supposedly crafted of fire and iron and hung in the sky, had gone out. So maybe there is a great deal you couldn’t have imagined. It hasn’t been your season.

You lift your sword to swing again, but there is a pause, a shift in both armies. One of the Justiciers is looking to the east.

There is a glint of red light, and you look too-- and for one wild moment you wonder if the sun is finally rising.

It’s not the sun, it’s the light of the fires reflecting in the red metal of the Anchors as they stream forward over the hillside.

Its Hella Veral, backlit by Hieron’s two moons, looking half-sheepish and half defiant. You had put all your effort into controlling just one Anchor earlier, and now there she is, commanding them like a General.

You feel … proud?

This is supposed to be your quest. Save Hella Veral from herself and the inequities that beset her: Save Hella from herself.

Your eyes meet for a second.

Your Gods are…. Your God is a not a war god. None of the gods you have encountered or read about in around Velas are paragons of combat and blood. But you can suddenly see the appeal. She is tall, regal and so, _so_ alive. She has cut down queens, and monsters, and the deathless with a strength that is both terrifying and intoxicating.

There, in a burnt field, far from home, surrounded by dead metal and torn flesh, you are not sure what here is evil. What could possibly be evil.

You are not sure who needs saving.

That night, as you promised, Hella sleeps well.

You don’t.

 


End file.
